Masks of the Heart
by AmberShadows76
Summary: Masks were necessary in his line of work, but could they have lead to him missing out on something even better?


**Disclaimer: I do not own even a smidgen of Final Fantasy or Square Enix, I just really enjoy the games (considering they're the only ones I've ever beaten). As such this is made purely for enjoyment and is in no way for profit. **

"_Would you say I've become a hero?"_

Wisps of lifestream returning the dead to Gaia flowing around his ankles, the man in the blue suit turned a dispassionate eye to the numerous helmets, weapons, and debris that littered the impromptu battlefield. While the official count had not yet reached his ears, the carnage on the plateau and its surrounding area gave evidence to a great battle having taken place there just a short time ago.

_But who was the victor? _He wondered as he put his considerable training to use to determine what had happened. Here the scuffs of a trooper's boot, there the slash of a sword, the frozen remains of a blizzaga, and the scorched earth scent of a fira; slowly the evidence converged until it ended at the highest point of the plateau.

Here, with the city of Midgar a hazy shadow in the distance, lay a single area of blood stained dirt with wisps of lifestream still dissipating in the bright sunshine that flooded the area as if mocking the fight and all that was lost here in this place but hours ago.

The deliberate quiet scuff of shoes on the rain and battle softened ground behind him let him know that his time for quiet contemplation was over.

_The fates laugh when men make plans, for who but the gods can control the very fabric of the universe. Though, if anyone could have succeeded in unraveling fate it would have been Him. _He thought, turning to face the two red heads and the dark skinned man who had joined him at the peak of the plateau. Quiet solemnity that sheltered those in its shadow, chaotic energy that hid sharp wits and a sharper blade; and the peaceful calm that preceded only the worst of storms; unique masks, born from necessity in their line of work, that hid and protected the finest of his next generation of Turks. But Tseng could pierce each of his men's masks and knew the hearts, battered and bruised as they were by a lifetime of hardship, that dwelled within.

It was as he observed his few most trusted that Tseng realized why Zack had not waited for the aid of the Turks had been hinted at by Cissnei, Rude, and Reno. It was in them that Zack was placing his trust for the future, one where monsters masquerading as humans were not allowed to run things their way.

_In us… and in one other._ Memories of a small blond, overlooked by many because of his small stature and quiet attitude flashed thorough Tseng's mind. Five years worth of planning and scheming changed in that instance. With that one thought and one bout of ultimate trust, Tseng turned from the few remnants of who could have been his friend, in as much as a SOLDIER and a Turk were ever friends, and issued the commands that would put into motion the events that would ensure the toppling of Shinra and the mad men that ran it.

"Reno, Rude-there are tracks leading off the plateau heading toward Midgar. If it is a trooper, see that they get safely back to Midgar, after you get their report on what happened here."

"And if it's not a trooper?" questioned the flamboyant redhead, twirling his magrod around his hand.

Tseng looked into faintly glowing blue eyes and impenetrable black lenses.

"You got it boss man. Let's go find us a trooper, pardner."

As Reno and Rude set off following the evidence of a heavy object being drug behind stumbling footsteps, Tseng turned to contemplate his remaining Turk. She may think he did not know about her helping Zack and Cloud more than once during their journey across Gaia running from the entirety of Shinra's vast resources, but Tseng was pleased with the evidence that even Turks could still have a heart. A heart that would serve her well in the assignment that Tseng had for her.

That day, the wheel of fate that had been set in motion that chaotic day in Nibelheim, would begin turning faster and faster until it reached its inevitable end. Not that Tseng would realize the consequences of his actions until several years later, sitting in a rowdy, yet somehow peaceful, bar watching the masks of his men be replaced with real happiness as they celebrated freely with the eco-terrorists, ex-Turks, ex-SOLDIERS, and WRO employees that filled the bar. While in the corner, somehow apart from the chaos and yet still involved in it, a young spiky haired blond sat with two small children and a small smile on his face. It would be there in that noisy bar, surrounded by people that he could begin to let his guard down around, that Tseng would remember a blood stained plateau and raise his glass in silent salute and farewell to the one who set the wheels in motion so many years ago. An understanding would pass between Tseng and the former trooper turned science experiment that day, for as dark eyes met mako bright blue across the bar, Tseng could have sworn they flashed purple for just a moment.


End file.
